The School of the Dragon
by Juggler of Fates
Summary: Trudging through the Korath Desert, a witcher from Zerrikania finds a mysterious portal in the pyramids of N'gosh and is teleported to far away land, a land devoid of monsters. What is a Witcher to do in such a world? Inspired by the White Wolf of Westeros. Takes material from both the Witcher books and games.


Author's Note: So, this is technically my second fanfiction that I have ever written, but my first was all the way back in 2015 and is a small 800 word long piece of crap. So for all intents and purposes, I am starting anew here. I always kind of thought that Game of Thrones and Witcher would be a great crossover idea, and after seeing so few stories in this section, it inspired me to write this. Well, that and reading the white wolf of westeros. Since Zerrikania and Hakland is not described very well in either the Witcher games or the books I will be taking liberties with the Zerrikanian and Haklandian lore. As far as I am concerned Hakland is Mongolia and Zerrikania is Africa, though that won't matter much as most of this story as I have it plotted out ends up in the Game of Thrones world. The way that our main protagonist manages to travel between the worlds is going to be the same method that Avallac'h uses when he travels between worlds. Will try to write more this time for the introduction, making it at least a 3,000 word long starting chapter to make it grab some eyeballs. I'm planning on all subsequent chapters to be 10k words. So yeah, that's it. Please leave reviews to tell me what you think about my first introductory chapter, criticism is welcome. Enjoy my first/second fanfiction.

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Our story starts here, in the land of Zerrikania and Hakland, a barbaric land east of the Blue Mountains, the late Nilfgaardian Empire, the Korath Desert, and the Northern Kingdoms. It starts like any other story for our dearest witcher really, with a contract for a monster. A contract which had led all the way out to the far west of Zerrikania, near the Korath Desert. Rolling plains and hospitable if harsh grasslands filled with leopards, antelopes, elephants, basilisks and tse tse flies had given way to endless dunes filled with nothing but the buffeting sands.

Sand, an annoying irritant for sure, getting everywhere, filling every crevice, eroding every barren rock.

"I fucking hate sand," a deep baritone voice murmured. The source of the voice was a large, muscular man perched atop a camel with skin so dark it was nearly black as midnight itself. On his head he wore a turban, covering his bald nature. In addition to this, a deep scar lunged across his face, going from his far right ear down across his chin. He was also wearing a dragon pendant that swung wildly in the wind. As for the rest of his attire he wore white cloth, as even leather was difficult to wear in this heat. Finally, across his back he had two scimitars and a bow.

"Can't believe I actually came this far out for one basilisk," the man muttered to himself. Basilisks were common on the steppes of Hakland and the grasslands of Zerrikania, but what made this one unique was its choice of den. In most cases, Basilisks would choose damp, cold places for their nest. However, he had been tracking this all the way through the desert as it left droppings as well as shreds of previously devoured meals as hints to its location.

There was only one place in the entirety of the Korath Desert where such a species could have made its nesting, the ruins of N'gosh. He, Zain Amani the witcher, had been there before many times. Once he came in search for a leecher, another time he came in search of a sphinx that had entranced many people with his riddles, but both were stories for another time.

For now he was focused on the trail. It was relatively easy to follow even in the sands, as he was tracking by sense of smell in addition to the occasional piece of half eaten meat. Very often this method of tracking was rendered difficult by the myriad of smells that surround someone out in the steppes, be it the smell of grass or of horse shit. But here the sands made the air sterile. And in this clearness tracking by smell was easier.

"C'mon Daria," He said gently to his camel as it slowly trudged along slightly faster than walking pace. Unfortunate though it may be, he could not force his camel to go any faster, as this would cause dehydration in the animal, and dehydration was something to be avoided in the all-consuming desert.

Even at full pace, a camel would have been no match for a race horse or really any sort of thoroughbred. But that didn't matter here, what mattered most was its two sacks of fatty, lumpy tissue that contained tons of water for rehydration. These animals were called ships of the desert for a reason after all.

His cat eyes constantly scanned the desolate scene of the desert, looking for the black pyramid of N'gosh. At last, off in the distance beyond the shimmering mirages, a sharp pointed black peak stood out to him. The tip of the pyramid of N'gosh. It meant that he was close.

As the day wore on and more distance was covered, the image became clearer and clearer, closer and closer, until eventually the entire pyramid splayed its grandeur out on top of him. A vast structure filled with naught but rumor of what lay inside.

As he approached the entrance to the grand pyramid, that is when Zain spotted it, a flag emblazoned with a bronze shield, and on that bronze shield lay a fire sigil. Zain knew that sigil anywhere, the nomads of the Korath Desert were also here. But still a question lingered in the air, unspoken. Why? Had the basilisk been hunting them? Sure, basilisk leather was valuable, but surely it was not worth enough to launch a suicide mission. Furthermore, if they were here for the Basilisk, how had they tracked it?

More questions he needed to answer.

"Alright Daria, it's time for you to let me off," Zain said to the camel as he tugged on the reins. Slowly, the camel furled its legs underneath its torso as it lowered itself to the ground, allowing for Zain to get close enough to the surface to get off.

"You be a good boy and stay, I'll be back before you know it," Zain said to Daria. He sighed as his boots touched the ground. This was going to be bad, he had hoped that no humans would interfere with his hunt for the monster, that it would be a clean kill.

Since there were humans here, he decided that stealth was his best approach. Even if he was a witcher and these were ordinary humans, having the advantage of stealth was something that was not lost on him, as even witchers could fall to a sword through the back.

He slowly nudged closer and closer to the entrance, which was an open rectangle with no door, exposed to the sands of time. From the inside he heard speech.

"It is time for the wizard to do his work, how about you go somewhere else while he is occupied," he heard a voice from the inside quip. 'Interesting,' Zain thought. Why would a wizard be here with this group? What sort of spell was the wizard casting that demanded the people he was with be separated from him? What type of wizard was it, was it an aquamancer? More questions to be asked.

Since he was descending into a place filled with the dark, Zain decided it was time to use his cat potion. He hated using his potions in such a cavalier manner. The reason why was because of berbercane's rarity in the grasslands of Zerrikania. Many of the ingredients needed to make vital witcher's potions had to be imported from travelling alchemists that moved between Nilfgaard and its various domains through the Korath Desert and into Zerrikania. This made such things as cat a rarity to be used in certain situations, like the one he was heading into now.

As Zain descended into the shadowy cavern he took note of the size of the group. So far he had seen five different people whereas the supplies that were left outside indicated at least ten. Unless they were travelling heavy, there would be more people here. But so far, he had seen no further trace of them or the Basilisk which he had come all the way here to hunt, which was odd. In any other Basilisk lair he would have run into the carcasses of previous hunts, or at the very least a few droppings. However, despite the lack of physical evidence of the Basilisk, the stench still wafted in the air. Had the nomads already cleaned the nest of all things dead related?

'Strange, I wonder if they got to the Basilisk before me,' Zain thought to himself. That would be terrible, as that means he came all this distance for nothing.

'Might as well confront this wizard, see if he killed this Basilisk,' Zain thought. And with these thoughts he followed his sense of smell as he slipped further into the vast underground below the pyramid.

Ahead of him he noticed a faint light. That is when Zain noticed the strange glowing runes and hieroglyphs that lined the walls. They seemed to depict grand deciduous trees covered in red leaves with faces engraved in it, various shapes and states of decay of the undead, some small childlike creatures that best looked like a Godling or perhaps a Kobold, and finally men dressed in primitive outfits made of wolves' pelts.

For Zain, this is when it got even stranger. As far as the texts back at Kaer Drohzon mention, no Kobolds or Godlings inhabited the great Korath Desert, even during ancient times when the pyramids of N'gosh were built, when the land was fertile and filled with floodplains. What also confused him was the depiction of the tree. As far as Zain knew there were no deciduous trees in the desert. Why would there be? There was no such thing as snow this far in the south, perhaps in Northern Hakland there would be some, but not here. Never in this desolate sunbaked land. Perhaps the strangest of all was the wolves' pelts. As like the snow, wolves would never come this far south into the Korath desert. Their domain lay in Temeria, Redania or Cintra, all lands far away from here.

But Zain could not let the curiosities that splayed across the walls to distract him from his purpose. He slowly crept along the darkness that surrounded him. Ahead of him his enhanced ears picked up a faint murmur.

"I want you all out now! I can't focus on activating this portal with you all present, get out!" a voice angrily exclaimed.

"That must be the wizard, charming man," Zain said to himself.

Slowly and quietly he crept into a circular chamber where the wizard was surrounded by five companions wielding torches. The six of them all had blackened skin much like Zain. The wizard wore a turban much like his own as did the five companions.

That is when he spotted three things. First, a dead Basilisk curled up in a corner. Second, in the middle of the large circular area sat a deciduous tree filled with red leaves and embedded with a face growing large and vibrant where no sunlight could reach it. The resemblance to the trees that plastered the hieroglyphic wall was uncanny. Third was an archway that was propositioned next to the tree. On this archway lay the same runes and hieroglyphs that lined the walls.

That is when his dragon pendant began to swing wildly as if possessed. The only time it would swing wildly was when magic was nearby, and between the wizard, a magical tree, a dead basilisk, and some sort of magical archway, there was clearly enough magic to make the pendant go wild.

Still, Zain had not been spotted yet. How could he? Except for the area lit up by the torches' light the underground chamber was pitch black. So long as he stayed away from the light he could remain here for a while. Not that he wanted to, he just wanted in and out.

That is when a new plan began to form in his mind. Instead of confronting the wizard and seeing about the group's potential hostility, he could just behead the basilisk and make a clean getaway with no need to risk life or limb. Whoever said that a witcher's work was honest work? All the villagers would know is that the witcher came back with a beheaded basilisk. And that was good enough for Zain.

With this new plan in mind, Zain crept slowly towards the carcass, slowly unsheathing his straight edged dagger that he kept on his hip.

Then he arrived at the carcass. From there he started making his cut at the neck. In the background chatter from the group continued.

"Fine, have it your way you stinky, grouchy old wizard. Say, if you didn't need our help in the first place, then why hire us?" One of the five voices called asked.

"Because I needed your help to kill the Basilisk or any other monster that may have been here. Tell me, is your memory so short that you have forgotten already?" The wizard said to the five with contempt in his voice.

"Watch your words old man," Another one of the five fired back. "Or else you may find a sword in your back."

That is when they noticed it, a faint squelching sound alongside what sounded like a blade being sharpened.

"We can argue later," the wizard said to the group. "Fan out and find the source of that sound, leave no stone unturned."

Quickly the torch bearing members of the contingent spread out. Two moved to cover the entrance into the chamber while the other three started to wander around the room looking for any clues as to the sound. It is at this point that Zain knew his time was running out, he would have to confront the wizard and his group and hope that they were not hostile.

"Relax, I'm not here to harm you or your group. I'm just here for the Basilisk which you already killed," a deep voice said from the darkness, that voice being Zain's.

"Who are you and why have you come for the Basilisk?" The wizard shouted into the darkness while motioning his companions towards the Basilisk corpse.

"My name is Zain Amani, witcher. Why I have come for the Basilisk should be self-evident," the voice from the darkness replied.

"Ah, a witcher. Tell me witcher, do the villagers pay well for stolen monsters?" The wizard asked.

"It depends on whether or not they know it was stolen," Zain replied.

"Unfortunate for you, as I won't let you steal this creature. We killed it, you see? And because of that the leather and all the other goodies belong to us," The wizard said with hostility in his voice.

"Well, equally unfortunate for you, I can't leave empty handed," Zain said as he grasped his steel scimitar on his back.

"Very well then if it is conflict you desire, then conflict you shall have. I cannot let you leave this place, who knows who you could tell of my whereabouts," the mage said in a theatrical tone. Zain sighed as he thought about how pointless it was to die over the corpse of a basilisk. Apparently the companions agreed with him.

"You must be mad if you think I'm going to fight a god's honest witcher over some fucking corpse you twat! We was paid to protect you not to attack people on your suicidal orders! Let the witcher go I says, not worth the fight," One of the five stated.

"Listen to your 'friend' mage, he has more common sense than you do. Just let me go with the head of the basilisk and you can go on doing whatever it is you were doing before with all your limbs attached the way they should be. Besides, who the fuck cares about your whereabouts? I certainly don't and I don't think anyone else will," Zain said to the mage.

"Nonsense, I know you work for them. You can't fool me," the now clearly unhinged wizard said. The further the conversation wore on, the more Zain doubted the sanity of this sorcerer. Sometimes being a source did that to people. Zain in particular had encountered many such individuals during his travels.

Quietly underneath his breath, the mage started to mutter something that sounded vaguely like elder speech. Then suddenly, the eyes of all five of the companions went black, something only Zain could pick up with his cat enhanced vision. Then, the mage started another incantation, this one lit up the room with light coming from seemingly all directions magnified with the power of the sun, blinding him.

Now having vision of their target, the now possessed/charmed companions moved towards him with haste. But even faster than the companions was the witcher who moved with grace and style. As the first of the companions reached him, Zain drew his steel scimitar and in one fluid, smooth motion severed the hand carrying a sword from one of the bodies. Then on the following strike the torso had been separated from the head. The blades had not even crossed, such was the speed and efficacy of the witcher.

The following four companions, having seen what had happened to their friend, grouped together and surrounded the witcher from all sides. That is when Zain heard another incantation being muttered. Suddenly, a rune appeared from nowhere and attached itself to his forehead. After this had happened, Zain tried to cast aard, only to find, instead of a blast of wind knocking back his enemies with the force of a hurricane, green sparks flew from his hand as nothing happened. Somehow, that rune had disabled his signs. Fine, Zain thought to himself, I'll do this the old fashioned way.

With that thought he readied his sword in a half guard stance, with his scimitar positioned to guard his midsection. It was at this time that all four of the remaining companions advanced, leaving nothing to chance. Fortunately for Zain, he still had his samum, and this is what would give him the critical edge he needed. He fingered the bomb for a brief second before clasping it firmly in his right hand. Then he tossed it forward while simultaneously turning away to shield his eyes from the blast.

BANG!

It went off, catching two of the four surrounding him and buying the witcher precious seconds to deal with the opponents behind him. He did a quick one hundred and eighty degree pirouette to face them, using the momentum from his body to accomplish the task. Immediately after doing so the two were upon him, as the witcher locked blades with them, his enhanced strength allowing him to push against the both of them without crumbling. Knowing that he needed to move quickly, the witcher shoved the two of them back using brute force, this gave him a brief opening where he was able to cut deeply into to skull of one, leaving his dead body bleeding out on the floor. To the other Zain quickly parried his sword to the left and slashed through the companion's leftmost side, leaving guts and entrails strewn all over the floor.

After this had occurred, Zain turned to face his other two aggressors. With angry expressions etched onto their face they then clumsily advanced. Just like the other two the witcher had just slain these men were not good swordsmen. It showed in their stance, or lack thereof. Both held their scimitars in one hand off to the side, leaving their midsections unguarded. This was a critical mistake, and one that Zain would use to his advantage. His opponents, having now closed the distance, swung their swords wildly at him. He quickly slapped both to the side and made a cutting stroke with his curved blade across the abdomen in both men, leaving them in a similar state as the other companions, with guts everywhere.

Now having taken care of the men attacking him, Zain turned his attention to the sorcerer who had bewitched them into their hostility in the first place.

"No no no I need more time, the portal is almost done!" The mad wizard said frantically.

Suddenly, in the midst of the archway, with an iconic whoosh a portal appeared.

"Yes, my portal!" The wizard practically screamed with excitement at his success. "No longer will I suffer, I shall become a god!"

Suddenly, the wizard jumped into the portal, leaving a very confused Zain behind.

"Well, that was an interesting encounter," Zain said to himself. He walked uncaring past the bodies of the innocents which he had just slain and towards the portal, observing it in curiosity, running his hands on the archaic runes and hieroglyphs that crisscrossed the structure. Then he sheathed his scimitar and again drew out his straight edged dagger.

"For as much fun as it would be to follow a mad wizard through a strange portal, I'd rather not," Zain said to himself.

He then promptly turned from the portal to the basilisk still laying in the corner of the room.

"Come here you piece of shit. I had to fight a gods damned wizard for you," Zain said as he severed the head from the body, then attached it to a hook meant for mounting on his camel. He then tested his aard sign, to make sure it was working after the spell the mage cast on him. Sure enough, with the source of the magic gone, his aard worked just fine, as did the rest of his signs.

"Well, there is nothing left for me here, might as well go back. Just another new story to tell Jafar once I get back to Kaer Drohzon I guess," Zain said to himself once again.

That is when he noticed it.

"Wait, where is the gods damned corridor out!?"

Somehow, someway, while Zain was busy fighting, the way out had vanished, leaving nothing but walls in its stead. To make sure this was not one final trick by the mage before he left the portal, Zain felt the walls all around him, making sure that it was no mirage, that the walls were solid. Unfortunately for him, they were. With this revelation he eyed the portal, thinking of the possibilities. Unfortunate though it may be, he was left with only one choice, and that choice was self-evident.

"Great, now I am following a mad mage through a strange portal," he said to himself.

Slowly he approached the portal again, this time intent on going through the otherworldly thing. Zain let out another of his sighs of exasperation as he put his foot inside the portal.


End file.
